Foggy Night in London
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: Sherlock and Molly spend Halloween night together at 221B. . .what could possibly go wrong? Post-TFP. I do not own the characters; Sir ACD & Moftiss/BBC do.
1. Best Friends' Night In

The air was cool and crisp, autumn leaves crunched beneath her feet. Dense fog swirled around, creating an eerie atmosphere. A long black trench coat clung to her curves, tied at the waist. Her loosely curled hair, made to look natural, was covered with a deerstalker. Using her key to enter the building, she was greeted by Mrs. Hudson.

"Molly, dear, what a lovely costume," the elderly landlady laughed. "Whoever could you be?"

"Thanks," Molly smiled with a small laugh. "He'll probably tell me to bugger off." The pathologist continued up the stairs and entered 221B.

"Molly is that you?" Sherlock called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, it's me," she confirmed. "I brought over some films to watch too." It was Halloween night and despite Greg's invite to the NSY costume party, Sherlock opted to stay home. He was not one for frivolous costumes unless it was being in disguise for a case. John was out with Rosie trick or treating in the meantime.

"Delightful," he remarked, stepping into the sitting room. "Molly."

"Hmm?" she asked, knowing full well he was about to do what she had told Mrs. Hudson he'd do.

"Are you—" he paused "—supposed to be…me?" Molly blushed furiously.

"Um…yes?" she replied, not meaning for it to come out as a question.

"Suits you," he smirked.

"R-really?" Molly asked in bewilderment.

"Mm," he hummed in approval. "The hat looks much better on you."

"So, you're not gonna tell me to bugger off?" she questioned.

"No," he chuckled. "It's quite the clever costume."

"A compliment to me that also compliments yourself," Molly teased. "Of course."

"You know me well, Molly Hooper," Sherlock grinned cheekily.

* * *

They were in the middle of the second cheesy slasher film, a bowl of popcorn between them. Every now and then, their fingers would brush against one another. Electricity sparked their now racing hearts. Sherlock found he loved the feel of her smooth skin beneath is calloused fingers. He wanted more; to caress her cheek and feel her lips against his. They had become practically inseparable since the events of Sherrinford months ago. Sherlock would even go as far to say that Molly was his best friend, aside from John. He never told her he meant the words, as she understood it to be an act to save her life.

A scream sounded from the telly as another character was murdered, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"The killer is the creepy janitor, duh!" Molly shouted at the movie.

"The janitor, Molly, really? Could you be more obvious?" Sherlock responded with a huffed laugh.

"It's always too obvious in these movies, Sherlock," she replied, throwing a small handful of popcorn at him. When the killer was, indeed, revealed to be the janitor, Molly threw a smug smile towards him.

"What," Sherlock sighed in defeat.

"Say it," Molly told him.

"YouwererightIwaswrong," he mumbled unintelligibly.

"Like you mean it, Sherlock," she insisted. "I barely heard that."

"You were right, Molly, I was wrong," Sherlock managed through his teeth. "Satisfied?"

"Yep," Molly smirked.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade shouted upon entering 221B. Molly jumped, essentially knocking the bowl of popcorn onto the floor.

"Who's the winner now," Sherlock laughed heartily. He picked a piece of popcorn from her hair before popping it in his mouth.

"Shut up," Molly giggled, playfully bumping into him with her shoulder. Greg looked at them impatiently. "Sorry."

"There's been a murder; pretty gruesome," he explained. "We haven't any leads."

"Of course you don't," Sherlock rolled his eyes. Molly flashed a glare in his direction. "I mean, we'd be happy to help."

"We?" Molly asked. "You want me to come with you?"

"You dressed the part; you get to live it now," Sherlock smiled. Lestrade was a bit confused until he watched as Molly pulled on her coat and deerstalker.

"Ah, I get it now," he chuckled. "Pretty funny; looks better on you." Sherlock glared at Lestrade heatedly. He sighed inwardly at his jealous streak; it did nothing but get him in trouble with Molly, so he reeled it in as best as he could.

"Ready to go?" Molly chirped. Her enthusiasm in being involved with his chosen profession perked him up a bit. Oh, how he loved her.

"The game is on!" he announced with a wink sent her way.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I know Halloween isn't typically celebrated in England, but this is too good! Plus, it's for one of my besties as an early birthday present! Let me know your thoughts! I have some prompts to fill for the Sherlolly Prompt collection before I start on chapter 2, but I assure you I have a night of mayhem planned for these two.


	2. A Murder Most Foul

**Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper are on the case! A bit of danger and some violence mentioned.**

* * *

In a dark cold alleyway, Sherlock Holmes was observing the crime scene. Lestrade wasn't messing around when he said the murder had been gruesome.

"Molly, come take a look at this," the consulting detective told her. She knelt down next to him, studying the various lacerations covering the man's wrists and throat.

"Trying to cover it up as a suicide, but why?" Molly pondered. "I mean, it's obvious to anyone that this is murder, so why even bother with the wrists?"

"Why, indeed, Molly," Sherlock replied. She couldn't help but smile at the small victory that he had not called her John like last time.

"Perhaps it's a calling card," Molly suggested. Sherlock's eyes widened.

"Molly, you're brilliant!" he exclaimed. "A serial killer who's just starting out it seems, unless— Lestrade!"

"Hmm?" Greg asked.

"Have there been any reports around the city of any other victims with their wrists in such a state?" Sherlock asked.

"None that I know of," Lestrade replied. "I could always check."

"That won't be necessary," Sherlock waved off. "I think Molly may be right about where this is headed. We need to catch this psychopath tonight and soon." Lestrade's phone rang then.

"Yes, hello?" he said. "Oh God, really? Alright, I'm on it."

"What's wrong?" Molly asked.

"Another body found in the Thames," Lestrade informed them. "I'll take care of this mess here. Sherlock, you and Molly take this lead; I just texted you the information."

* * *

Arriving at the scene, Sherlock was in a protective stance in front of Molly. He was beginning to regret having her come along. The wrists and throat on the woman were similar to the first victim and she was obviously dead before being thrown into the Thames. Her face was bashed in a bit. A bad feeling grew in the pit of Sherlock's stomach, seeing as how the woman was treated a bit worse than the man.

"Molly, let me get you a cab to take you home," Sherlock told her.

"What? Sherlock, no, I'm not going anywhere," she insisted.

"Molly, please, just do this," he argued. "Do this for me."

"What's this about Sherlock?" Molly asked.

"If anything happens to you, I could never live with myself, Molly, now please let me get you safely home," Sherlock explained, his voice breaking in betrayal. He always kept his emotions in check but they were running high tonight with worry.

"I am not going anywhere, Sherlock," Molly told him. "I feel safer with you than alone and waiting in my flat." He sighed, knowing she was right. She was a bit safer with him than being on her own.

"Don't leave my sight, understand?" he said with urgency.

"Promise," Molly agreed. A flash caught her eyes. "Hey, look at this." She lifted the necklace pendant with her gloved fingers. The words 'I love you' were etched into the gold. The word love was a bit scratched out. Pulling the woman's coat collar away from her throat, there were dark bruises on each side of her neck along with faint hand prints.

"They were in an altercation," Sherlock stated. "Maybe not a serial killer after all."

"What do you think it is, then?" Molly asked. "Infidelity? Some sort of love triangle maybe?"

"Infidelity, no, but I have reason to believe our killer is a jealous ex," Sherlock deduced. He called Lestrade immediately.

"Greg, did the man have a cellphone on him?" Molly heard him ask. "Excellent. Check the text messages for anything out of the ordinary. Maybe something about a jealous ex-boyfriend."

"Um, Sherlock," Molly called to him. His attention was immediately directed at her. "The hand prints are too small to be a man's; try a jealous ex-girlfriend."

"There's always one thing," he muttered. "Ex-girlfriend, Lestrade."

"Found it!" Greg shouted through the phone. "There was a message from the man to the woman; his name is James Carlyle and hers is Catherine McLoughlin. He told her that there was to be a court ruling for a restraining order against his ex-girlfriend, Annabeth Hastings. Apparently, she had been harassing him for weeks."

"Not very clever, is she?" Molly remarked.

"Nope," Sherlock smirked. Molly's eyes widened in horror.

"Sherlock, behind you!" she screamed. Before he was able to react, Molly tackled the woman to the ground. Annabeth was close to drawing her knife on Sherlock but the petite pathologist was quicker. Sherlock whipped out the spare handcuffs he had on hand as Molly confiscated the murder weapon. Annabeth threw Molly off of her, attempting to lunge at Sherlock until tripping over Molly's leg which was deliberately stuck out for such a purpose. She was now handcuffed by the consulting detective, himself.

Moments later, Lestrade arrived on the scene with Sally Donovan.

"Good work, you two," Greg told them. A simple nod from them was given.

"Are you okay, Molly?" Sherlock asked in a soft voice.

"I'm fine. You?" she asked in return.

"Excellent," he answered. "Thank you for saving me."

"It was nothing," Molly told him. "Nobody messes with my best friend."

"Yes, well, about that, Molly—" Sherlock began.

"I need you to come with us," Greg informed him. Sherlock dug in his pocket and handed Molly ten quid.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"Get a cab back to Baker Street; I'll be there when I'm finished with this," he explained. Sherlock caught a cab for her and kissed her temple before she climbed inside. That simple act of intimacy left her with a racing heart and mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** okay, so I feel this chapter is a bit of a mess but it's only because I'm no good with the crime portion of Sherlock fics.


	3. Give Me Love

**my playlist for this chapter can be found under my playlist on Youtube. Just look up simplyshelbs16, click on my channel and then the playlists tab. It's the one titled, 'You're My Cup of Tea (Autumn Mix)'. Give it a listen; I promise all the Sherlolly feels!**

* * *

Molly was curled up on the sofa, a small binder full of essays in her hand. They were all her essays; ones she had submitted to various medical journals. Sherlock had kept them all. Her heart swelled. Looking back at everything they had been through for the past seven years with a different point of view, she realized the one thing she missed. _There's always one thing_ , the consulting detective's voice sounded in her mind. He loved her; she knew that now. He had meant it all those months ago during the phone call. 221B's door opened and snapped Molly out of her thoughts.

"Ah, Molly, there you are. I—" he stopped when he noticed the binder.

"Sorry, I just picked it at random, and well," she trailed off. "You kept them."

"Yes, well," Sherlock cleared his throat. "They're quite intriguing. Informative." Molly gave a small smile. The awkwardness they had moved past returned in that moment.

"Sherlock."

"Molly."

"You first," Molly giggled. He moved to sit next to her on the sofa, gently taking the binder from her hands.

"I kept them because they were interesting, yes, but it was mostly because you wrote them," Sherlock admitted. It wasn't easy for him to admit his sentimental attachment to her work, but for Molly, he would do anything. "Molly, you're one of my best friends. I trust you with my life…and my heart. A long time ago, I had denied my sentiment towards you, but I find myself having fallen in love with you. And I continue to even more every day. I admire and love you most ardently, Molly Hooper."

She was shocked into silence, not over his confession, but the beautiful wording of it.

"Molly, please, I'm dying here," Sherlock gave a hollow laugh. Her eyes never left his as she reached up to caress his cheek. She leaned in far enough for their lips to be a breath away but not quite touching.

"I love you so much," she whispered, her warm breath speeding up his heart. Molly pressed her lips against his tenderly, her fingers moving into his curls. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Each brush of their lips was a spark of electricity, bringing their hearts to life as if they were lifeless before this moment. He moved his lips to her cheek and trailed them down her jawline before landing just below her ear.

"So beautiful," he whispered in her ear. "I love you." Sherlock continued to sprinkle her neck and face with soft, slow kisses, repeating those three words over and over again. Molly held onto him for dear life, feeling herself physically falling more in love with the man she gave her heart to. He finally touched his lips to hers once more, his tongue slipping between the seam of her lips. The feel of him consuming her, along with the comforting sounds of the crackling fire and the now falling rain, was overwhelming in the best way.

"Sherlock," she called out quietly.

"Stay the night?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied with a smile.

* * *

"I say it was Professor Plum in the study with the lead pipe," Molly smirked. It was near midnight and what better way to spend the rest of Halloween night than with a round of Cluedo.

"You're accusing me!?" Sherlock asked in mock-seriousness. "Molly Hooper, that is rather irrational, you should rethink that."

"Oh, come on, you just know I'm right," she teased. "I got the chance to get it right before your next turn." Molly slipped the Cluedo cards out of the small envelope, proving to be the winner.

"It seems you have caught me red-handed," Sherlock sighed in defeat.

"Mhmm, that's right," Molly smiled. "I hope this means I get my prize now."

"Who says you get a prize?" Sherlock teased her back.

"Me," she chirped. "And you, once you find out what it is." Molly climbed into his lap and kissed him fervently, eliciting sighs of pleasure from him.

"Mm, I approve, Miss Hooper," he told her before snogging her once more. He stood suddenly, causing Molly to let out a squeal of surprise against his lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist to steady herself as he snogged her all the way to the sofa. He laid her down and slipped behind her. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her once more as she turned to face him and pulled down the large throw draped across the back of the sofa to cover them. It was her throw that he had allowed her to keep there two months ago.

"I love you," she spoke softly, nuzzling her nose against his. He placed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose and they snuggled in together, her head just under his chin and his lips in her hair, falling asleep to the sound of their hearts beating as one.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** and that concludes my story! I'm so very satisfied with it lol! I hope y'all are too!


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